I couldn't help myself! I was dipping into some old travel stories when I got lost in dreams and memories. One of the joys of photography, is that when you study a place through your own lens, you remember details, feelings, smells, weather. I never seem to forget where I was and what . . .
The light was returning. I had even opened my big mouth to utter the words- At last Spring is here! That was when the storms and the winter gales hit us with a vengeance. I was taking part in a #100DaysofWalking challenge, eating for the good of my bones and cutting out all things . . .
This we have now is not imagination. This is not grief or joy. Nor a judging state, or an elation, or sadness. Those come and go. This is the presence that doesn't. Rumi It's not that I didn't already know. I had been aware of the decline in wild things for the last few . . .
I see her walking on a path through a pathless forest or a maze, a labyrinth. As she walks, she spins and the fine threads fall behind her following her way, telling where she is . . .
We see trees. What more do we need? Maira Kalman Here is 2019. The new beginning is a special time of the year. Darker days are good news for nerds and introverts allowing us maximum time to read and journal. I've been mooching about with spider diagrams and wanting to . . .